I'm not used to staying home anymore.
Last weekend, I was forced (due to the weather) to stay at home. My dad practically banned me from going out. It was during this ban that I've come to realize that home is not really home for me. It was a place that where I could sleep or use the bathroom with... but it is not what I know is home.
This idea made me nothing but restless.
It made me want to get out, to run away from the cobwebs that surrounded my father's apartment.
As my father served me big portions of spaghetti and cordon bleu, I stared at how jovial he was to see me home. I saw how happy he was that for the first time in months, he did not have to give me a ride to my uncle's house.
Honestly, it made me kinda sad.
I realized that we both want different things. I want to go, he wants me to stay (simply because he never really had me before). I want to leave and see the world, he already saw the world and is tired of it. I live to know, he knows how to live. The list goes on forever and I almost cried while eating my asparagus ridden cordon bleu simply because I understood.
I understood that he will never ever help me find that apartment (regardless of his connections and abilities), he will never understand the pressure I am to leave and he will never understand that I know how hard it is for him to have me there.
For the first time in awhile, I was restless and restlessness made me realize that there are things that I badly want. It may be irrational to want them but I want them nonetheless. I want them because I can never find peace without it.
I've come to accept that I am a
Restless soul,
Someone Anxious
